To plot or not to plot?
by Big Cat
Summary: Another plot against Havelock Vetinari. The best assassin is summoned to ‘clear the position’ of Patrician.
1. Benelux

**To plot or not to plot?...**

**Summary**: A plot against Havelock Vetinari put Ankh-Morpork into organized hysteria. The best assassin is summoned to 'clear the position' of Patrician.

_This story came to me while I was reading Night Watch (again!) and there was a character I was quite intrigued from. I like writing about Vetinari, he is a character I like much because of his unpredictable spirit and his coldblooded energy. I like that..._

_Anyway, the events I write about happen between Jingo and Night Watch. _

_If you have any comments, please, review. Don't spare me. I am always open for any criticism, because I am my own severest critic. _

**1. Benelux**

The darkness of the Obscure office didn't let Dr Downey to read the message in his hands. He lit a match to light the candlesticks on his desk. His lips shivered for a while, then he removed his reading glasses and sighed deeply. So, he thought, that's it. His agents reported at last. In only two years period the person had more than twenty successful works all around the disc, and more than half of them were with heightened difficulty. It was obvious who would be promoted soon, he thought. The best lecturer he could have in the Scorpion school for advanced students. Quite interesting. Indeed. Dr Downey looked at the picture stick on the first page of the file and smiled. That would be a hit, he smiled. The lecturers would remonstrate against the new recruit, but soon they would settle down. After all, none of them had such high score, no one of them would ever have such high score, indeed.

He looked at the file again. Birth name: Jovial Band. Dr Downey smiled: what a name, indeed. Born and raced in XXXX, father – killed in assassination. Had a twin sister – Alice. The similarity was spectacular. When being five years old taken by his uncle – retired assassin, removed to the deep province, surrounded by sheep and bushes. No one knew where and how received the pseudonym. And who would dare asking?

The Head Assassin put a hand over other file on his desk, smoothing over its surface, cudgelling his brain about everything it had inside. The yellow paper of its front begged for his touch, but he hesitated enough to open it. It has no need. The file had been hidden in his safe for many years, it had a lot of dust on its surface, the paper edges were damaged and already dark with age. He had to reopen the case again. The time had come and soon he had to demonstrate some of his special principals before the eyes of his comrades. After all he was a man of honour, he could confess it was a bill no one could pay, but after all he made a small contribution himself, and some of the others from the guilds and the nobilities did the same. If someone would ever know what he was thinking, he could be a dead man. Especially if one specific man could know what was he thinking about right now.

Soon, he thought. When Benelux comes to town, he would put a little test and if the person demonstrates the abilities it was so famous with, he would gladly put it under _that_ contract.

He stared at the yellow file. It was quite far in time when the last assassin failed. It would be interesting to see what Benelux would do.

Dr Downey smiled bitterly and stood up slowly, bent down his head and blew the candles. When he closed the door of the Obscure office behind him, the window opened slightly, letting the spring wind run through the study. The papers at his desk moved lazy, the yellow file opened its cover and a small picture flew against the wind, settling back on its recent position. It was an old iconography of advanced in age man carrying a shaggy terrier in his lap. The wind blew a little more, then stopped tiredly and rushed out the window.

---

Lord Havelock Vetinari was still young when he took the vacant position of Patrician of Ankh-Morpork. Nevertheless of his early thirties, he was a man with good visions and straight ideas how to rule a city that large as this one. His secretary was a man in his young years, a brave lad clever enough to keep his mouth shut and his eyes wide open. He was not the cleverest assistant Lord Vetinari would like to have, but was something between what he liked and what he hated. That made him be always aware, and that is the position each ruler should be in, to keep his hypertension on. Otherwise he would be dead by now. Many times.

Twenty years after his nomination as Patrician, the middle aged Havelock Vetinari already had the experience required to keep his citizens aware all the time. Mostly the guild presidents, some of which he knew from his younger years and because he did know them better than any other in the city, he agreed their nominations. The knowledge of people could give you some very important – and safe – tips. He knew exactly what was going on in the city, and that was the most preferable virtue a modern ruler should have.

Havelock Vetinari travelled his eyes around the table centring the Oblong office and pronounced calmly.

'After everything you said, gentlemen, and I do think I was listening carefully, I should say, this is all nonsense and you know _exactly_ _what_ I mean.'

The noblemen shivered again. Their eyes searched for support in each other, but being in the presence of Havelock Vetinari that was a hard job.

'The improvement must be done, gentlemen, this is what the city needs.' calmly said the Patrician. 'We all know what is happening nowadays. The taxes hadn't been levied from years and the city needs improvements we can not afford other way. I do hope you will understand my state of mind and soon will come to the right statement. Otherwise I shall revise my agreement for the tax collection, and you all know what will happen next.'

He pressed his palms together and travelled his stare again.

'But, Sir' said the Head of the Potters Guild. 'We all do what we can…'

'I don't think the actions you mean had been done, Mr. Bertram.' answered Vetinari. 'If I am not wrong the improvement tax form your guild transmitted last year was for twenty thousand dollars, the tax lays on that amount was five percent, it means – one thousand dollars in improvements the city is still waiting to obtain. That means that the city had been injured with one thousand dollars from eleven months, meaning _your_ guild especially, sir. Perhaps you understand my embarrassment when I received the improvement committee's report yesterday, letting me know what _hadn't_ been done, Mr. Bertram.'

'Our engineers…'

'Your engineers, Mr. Bertram, transferred their last plans few months ago and I approved them. But the bridge in your guild's immediate proximity hadn't been touched yet. And as I was informed already, it lost one of its supports walls. Thanks gods it was not one of the main support walls, otherwise we would be talking about it while being _alone_, Mr. Bertram.'

Commander Vimes, staying in the far corner, giggled soundlessly and changed the position of his legs again. The Head of the Pottery Guild stared at the Patrician's eyes and shivered visibly. Being alone with Lord Havelock Vetinari was not the best thing happening to any man, nobility or not – it was not important. His blue icy eyes made anyone shiver from cold and hope death would come sooner and easier.

Mr. Bertram nodded slightly nervously and sighed deeply.

'As soon I get into the guild, I will do anything possible to start the improvements at once.'

'I do count on that, sir.' said the Patrician and smiled slightly. 'This includes every one here in the room.' He travelled his eyes around the anxious faces sitting on the table. 'I shall retrace all your actions in that direction and I will hope the reports I will receive these days will be satisfying enough.'

He put his palms on the board and leaned back in his chair, letting everyone know the audience was over. The men nodded respectfully and get up, rushing through the open door. Vimes followed them out, lifting an eyebrow, gazing questionably at the place Vetinari was still sitting in.

The clerk came to Vetinari's side and gave him a big pile of files. The Patrician looked down and opened the first one. He smiled. The name it had on its first page was quite familiar.

---

'What are you doing to do him?' asked the Head of the musicians, staring at Downey while going out of the Palace. The head Assassin smiled slightly and answered nervously.

'Soon, Mr. Brooks, you will have the opportunity to find it out very soon.'

'It doesn't satisfy us at all.' whispered the man at his back. Downey turned to stare at the eyes of Mr. Boggys, the head of the Thieves guild. His eyes daggered him hard enough to make him shiver and bend his head.

'As I already said, soon, gentlemen. I have transmitted the pleasure to a young man, quite familiar with this sort heavy work.'

'Who, the disc could that be?' asked Lord Venturii, appearing at his back. 'The last few assassins you put on that job, weren't even close. I still remember that poor man Vetinari caught in the stone labyrinth, so young and so… dead.'

'As I already said, the job is given to the best man ever born on Disc, I said it many times, don't make me repeat it again, please.'

'Who?' whispered Lord Selachii.' Who that man is? You said so many words for his support, but you still haven't tell us his name even. What does he have making him so special? You might have told us Benelux is on job, but I wouldn't believe, because…'

Dr. Downey stared at him with empty look. Lord Selachii shivered nervously, then he started reading his eyes and smiled.

'It's him, right?' he whispered again. 'The _one_?'

'What?' asked Lord De Burgh, following them in a distance.'

'Downey has hired Benelux, Tom' murmured the Head of the potters.

'Oh, really?' smiled Lord De Burgh. 'Himself?'

'Yes, Tom, himself. Now please make me the favour to hide that smile from your face and shut up!' hostile murmured the men around and dispersed to their own routs. Downey stood a little more, turned around and fixed his eyes at a specified window on the fifth floor of the Palace and smiled. A man, standing behind the curtains smiled back.

---

Benelux was not a name. It was a place hidden in the deep province of the southern part of XXXX. Had some houses, several storehouses and a lot of sheep. The only inhabitants were an old man and his younger apprentices. The early spring in this part of the disc was not quite different from the hottest summer, burning everything over the flat sterile land, producing only slim leaves of grass here and there, the river was just a thin brook, moistening the dead soil and still giving some kind of life here and there.

Alice pulled out the dagger form the logs and came to her brother, leaning under the heavy shadow of the thick avocado tree.

'Your turn, bro.'

Jovial opened his eye just in time to close it again.

'I'm tired, Alice.' he said and put his hands over his face. 'Go on, I'll watch.'

Alice sighed deeply. 'You know what uncle says, Jov. Come on!' she rounded her eyes, changing her voice. 'Kids, if you want to be the best – practice. No assassin will learn to be a good assassin without practicing.' She handed the dagger, Jovial took it and threw it without even opening his eyes. The dagger stabbed. Alice looked at the logs and sighed. The white chalk spot was not seen any more. The throw hols made it almost invisible. Alice sighed and smiled.

'Now is my turn.' She went to the well-arranged logs by the barn and already pulled out the dagger when she heard the yell from the house. She came closer to her brother.

'Come on, Jov, time for lunch.'

The old man was waiting by the house door, ringing on the lead plate hanged there.

'Come on, kids!' he cried, going inside the house.

Jovial lifted his head, looked at the direction the old man was standing some seconds ago and pronounced boringly:

'I'm not hungry.'

Alice smiled and rounded her eyes, already reaching for his leg, pulling him slowly through the yard.

'Come on, bro.' she said. 'Last lunch with the old man. Be a good guy.'

Jovial let her drag him to the house with hidden smile and when his feet already touched the front stairs of the porch, he sighed deeply and took his sister's hand to lift up.

'Alright, sis.' he said with boring voice. 'Lunch. Yeah… Old man will be so happy, that old bat Alfredus. Get rid of us both, at last.'

'Yeah, bro' smiled Alice. 'The cart will take us in hour time. I was dreaming for this trip for years. So envy you had the chance to see the world. And I – stuck into the middle of nowhere. Can you believe: a full scholarship. To me! Come on, be a good guy. Imagine: next stop: Ankh-Morpork.' Her eyes sparkled.

Jovial sighed hurriedly. 'And I have to kill again…' His voice was so desperate, making Alice turn around and give him a big slap on his face. 'What do you want then?' she asked, helping him get up from the ground. 'Stay here and care of the sheep for the rest of you life? I'm not staying here and if you ever think drag me with you in here for a day more, then I have to find someone to pay me for your head.'

Jovial stared at her and blushed. 'Yeah, Alice. Boring thing this is, you know. When I returned from Whatanicefiord, I thought it will be for long…'

'It _was_ long.' commented the young woman. 'Seven weeks is long time, Jov.' She looked at him again and smiled. 'Come on, bro. Don't do this to me. I was waiting for this for many years. Uncle said I was ready for the school, and he said Ankh-Morpork is the best place to practice what I've learned. Come on!' She looked at him with her wide open blue eyes and blinked nervously. Then she took his arm and led him to the door. 'Let's give our last honour to the old man, all right?'

Jovial tried to put a smile. It was not hard to imagine what was the next boring work in the next boring city. Ankh-Morpork. He remembered the letters he and his sister received some days ago. Giving his sister scholarship to accomplish her education and him – a chance to practice and teach in the Scorpion school for advanced students. It was a boring job and he hated that. Teacher? Yeah, right. That was actually an excuse for what he was really invited in the city. And he knew exactly who the client was. The problem was that Jovial hated been treat as a mid idiot, pulled here, dragged there. Yes, he had some fame as a very good assassin, but actually he hated acting like a third rang assassin doing first rang job. He tried not to look too bored, made a face and followed his sister in.


	2. Rat!

**To plot or not to plot?...**

_Thank you all for the reviews, namely MJ MOD, TheMidgetBee, BTK and special thanks to Hamlet II. You give me a good support and sometimes - some kind of brainstorming. I'll try to give you the best I could (which is not that much). Anyway, thank you. _

_I hope BTK will forgive me, I promissed to post next week, but I couldn't stop myself writing._

_Enjoy the second chapter, named:_

**2. Rat!**

It was early in the morning when the carriage stopped at the Assassin' Guild's main door. The street was wet and filthy, almost off people to watch what is going around. It was a good sign, thought the young man helping the woman getting out. He knocked at the door, a man opened and let them both enter into the silent lobby.

'We are here to see Mr. Downey.' said Jovial, nodding to the man, welcoming them on the first level, facing the main chambers. The clerk nodded silently letting them understand he was to lead them. Jovial took Alice's hand, looked at her tired sleepy face and pulled her to the stairs up.

Dr Downey was not in his office at this time of the day. The clerk said they should wait and they sat in the chairs opposing the massive dark wooden desk. Jovial yawned, Alice rounded her eyes and stood up, slowly looking around the pictures on the wall.

'Look, Jov', said Alice, pointing at her front. 'Have you seen such dull bloke? What a man would put that portrait on his wall. This squirt looks like a frog.'

'Sometimes', yawned Jovial, 'the assassins put pictures of people they have inhumed, Alice. That must be someone very important to suspend it here.'

'Important?' giggled Alice. 'Look at that hair, look at that _nose_. It must be someone very pervert guy. He looks like a mass murderer, Jov. And the eyebrows… Wow, cold shivers went down my spine, bro… And that one, Jov. Look. Gods, if I had such face I would kill my self just because I should see it in the mirror again…'

'That was the former patrician, Lord Snapcase, my child.'

Alice turned to see Lord Downey's slow pace to the desk. He settled down and looked at the both directions. Alice nodded frisky and joined her brother.

'Good morning, Miss Band. Mr. Band. Glad to see you here.'

He smiled for a second, letting his guests enjoy his slightly yellowish teeth. He lit a cigar, inhaled twice and died it down in his desk's ashtray. Jovial stared at him, still silent, waiting for Lord Downey's words.

'I hope you have travelled well…' said the head assassin.

'Yes, thank you, Downey.' answered Alice, staring at the wall in his back. Downey travelled his eyes to the point she was looking now and smiled slightly.

'I see your attention had been grabbed by one of our best fighting tools, Miss Band.' he pronounced slowly. 'A good and very efficient baselard, manufactured in Genua seven hundred years ago for the honourable fra Antonio Macirelli, the establisher of the first Guild of Assassins, known to our civilisation. And a cruel dictator, bringing a huge part of the Disc under his sway. I am glad you noticed that. People usually don't.' He sighed. Alice smiled and lifted an eyebrow. Dr Downey put his hands on the desk, travelling his eyes through his guests.

'So…' said Alice. 'Chatted enough. Now to business…'

Downey sighed slowly, still fixing his eyes into the silent young man at his front.

'The school starts next week, miss Band, you are supposed to finish your education here and as far as we don't have any idea what your skills are, you will be put under several tests before that, and after I've heard a lot about you, I suppose it will not trouble you at all. My secretary will show you your dormitory. I am sorry the guild is not big enough for single rooms, but I'm sure you will get use to it soon, so…'

'Alice is staying outside of the Guild, as I am.' said the young man at last, staring at Dr Downey's eyes. The head assassin stared back, but as far as he could understand from his silent interlocutor's eyes, he was quite confident about it. He leaned back in his chair and puffed boringly.

'All right, Mr. Band. As you wish.' He looked at him again, already lifting his eyebrows. 'But you know, the school's staff is not usually staying away from the Guild. It's Guild's requirement from years and…'

'All requirements could be violated, Downey.' said Alice and smiled. 'One advise, sir.' she said coming closer, already whispering. '_Don't_ argue with Jovial. Just don't.' Her eyes penetrated into his shivering eyelids with the positive determination of someone ready to step at the snake's tale. She smiled again, this time happily and started walking through the study. 'Now, about Jovial's job.'

Dr Downey downed his face and looked at the young man questionably. Jovial made a face, letting him know he should direct his attention somewhere else. The head assassin sighed and followed Alice's movement.

'As far as I was informed, Mr. Band could be a helpful tutor for our advanced students. As I've been convinced, your brother could be very useful in some special subjects, as 'Fast Hit Theory and Practice' and 'General Principals of Penetration' for instance… The Scorpion school is quite old, and its lecturers are quite… advanced in years, I am sure a fresh blood will do best' he corrected him self rapidly. 'I mean, in the study process… with the students.'

'Of course.' said Alice, still walking around, keeping her stare at Downey's face. 'Four hours a day? Good. Private study? No other requirements? All right… Now, about the money.'

Downey looked at her, then he travelled his eyes to Jovial and sighed.

'As I already mentioned in my letter, twenty thousand a year…'

'AM Dollars?' asked Alice.

'Of course' smiled Downey. 'And some extra premium before Hogswatch, as always…'

'Right. That's settled.' answered Alice. 'Now about the other thing.'

'What thing?' Downey lifted his eyebrows.

'Oh, come on, Downey' sighed Alice. 'The other thing. _That_ thing.'

'I don't understand you, Miss Band' said the head assassin. 'What thing? I have invited your brother as a lecturer in the Scorpion school for advanced…'

'Oh, Downey, don't try to fool me like a stupid idiot. We all know _why_ we both are here and don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about again. I'm clever enough to know what happens. Jovial is the best and we both know it, but troubling yourself with the tickets to Ankh-Morpork form a _continent_ _very_ far away, _expensive_ tickets, twenty thousand a year – a salary for a god damn good _academician! _Oh, don't pretend you don't have your own good lecturers from nearby! And a scholarship for a woman old enough to be a lecturer herself… Come on, Downey, don't play with my intellect.'

The old man removed his stare from her and fixed it in the young man in his front. Then he smiled, opened the highest drawer of his desk, pulling out a thin yellow file. His eyes stared at the ashen surface, travelled it in his both hands, then at the faces of the twins and finally, considering enough, handed it to the man.

Jovial looked at his sister, she puffed boringly and took the file, already opening it. Downey stared at Jovial's face with a lack of understanding. He rounded his eyes, showing him that's what it should be and closed his eyes.

In some minutes of quietness Alice closed the file and gave it to her brother, already scowling at Downey's direction.

'Tough thing, you know.' she said and settled in her chair. 'And the data is incomplete.'

'That's all we have.' answered Downey. 'Gathering of what is written here was very expensive and dangerous…'

'Come on, Downey.' shouted Alice. 'Expensive? Dangerous? Don't you dare fooling me. That man was here for his all life and you still don't know what his weakness is?'

The head assassin scowled and pronounced calmly. 'I am _Dr_ Downey for you, young lady. Or if you prefer, _Lord_ Downey.'

Alice smiled and lifted her shoulders, squeezing her lips in playful voice. 'If you really want to be such official, _Lord_ Downey, I _am_ baroness van Smeets for you. In the short form…'

Downey stared at her, trying to evaluate her deep blue stare, sparkling with a mixture of anger and captiousness, smiled and leaned back in his chair, putting his head in his right fist. 'All right then…' He downed his head. '…Downey will be fine for now, Miss Band. But in future when addressing to me in public, please, use my _long_ form. It's much more suitable in the nowadays circumstances. You know… all the nobility around… and parvenus, etc.'

Alice flashed her stare back, smiled happily, and turned her attention to her brother still reading the thin file in his hands. He lifted his empty look at her and lowered it again.

'This might take some time, sir.', said Jovial, closing the file. 'Much data is missing. We have to do a lot of research to do the job.'

'Yes, of course.' said Downey, staring at him. 'Doesn't matter how long, Benelux, just do the job _properly_.'

Jovial fixed his eyes to him. Alice followed his angry stare and coughed nervously. 'Don't worry, Downey, the job will be done as it should be…'

'Professionalism is _very_ important!' continued Downey.

'Yes, of course.' said Alice, rapidly interrupting the vicious stare Jovial was fixing in the old assassin. 'Done, done! Now if you excuse us, we have to find a shelter here in the city, so we have a lot of work to do and we will see you tomorrow, I guess. Eight O'clock? Fine? Fine. Come on, bro. Good day, Downey.'

Jovial tiredly stood up, turned after his sister and stared at Downey's face when exiting. The head assassin shivered in cold. When the door was closed he slipped down in his chair and sighed deeply, mopping the moisture on his forehead. Then he rang the bell on his desk and stared at the clerk entering the office with the highest cruelty of his dark eyes.

'Rat!' said Jovial when exiting the Guild's main door. Alice smiled bitterly and sighed deeply. It had began.

---

'Where are they settled?' asked Lord Vetinari, reading the last reports in his hands.

Drumknott cleared his throat.

'At Mrs. Steelplate's boarding house, milord.' answered he rapidly.

Vetinari continued reading. The clerk stared at him expecting to hear the following orders. There was no such in the next few minutes.

'Detail search, as always, sir?' questioned Drumknott.

No answer.

'Constant surveillance, sir?' nervously added the clerk.

Silence.

Drumknott cleared his throat, stood still for some more minutes and finally, losing his patience, started to walk to the exit.

'Both of them.' Said Vetinari silently, still reading. Drumknott nodded in reply and already pushed the door handle down, when he heard his lordship's comments.

'Everyone has his weakness, Drumknott.' he said with no emotion in his voice. 'I believe Miss Band might be his weak point. As I have heard she must be some kind of his right hand, according the newest spy report from this morning. And I suppose I might not be wrong.'

Drumknott pulled the door.

'Be sure there will be no information outflows, Drumknott', said Vetinari with his calm voice. 'Otherwise I shall have to put your preferable special department under the consideration of been at the bottom of it all… Drumknott.'

The clerk shivered slightly, nodded nervously and exited from the study. He crossed the hall angrily, run into the small office at the end of the passage and closed the door behind him, exhaling with difficulty. The clerks sitting there stood up and made a step back staring at his blushing rage face.

'I have a job for you.' said Drumknott, crossing the distance to the desks with a few angry steps. 'Gather the staff immediately! No questions! Meeting in fifteen minutes! Sharp!'

'Yes, Mr. Drumknott.' nervously answered the clerks in one voice and followed Drumknott's rapid withdrawal.

---

Dr Downey looked at the reports in his hands and smiled.

'Very good, Mr. Pathety, very good indeed.'

'And she has so incredible skills, milord.' continued the Dean of the Assassin's Guild Scorpion School for Advanced Students. 'Quite impressing, sir. She must have passed very extreme education, with such talent she could be a valuable member of the faculty, sir.'

'You think so?' asked Lord Downey, lifting his tired eyes.

'Oh, yes, sir.' smiled the Dean. 'She knows almost everything about the poisoning, and I believe she is the best student I personally had during my long years in the guild school, sir. Unbelievably advanced mind, sir. Her reaction while Mr. Gobbert made his little trap was remarkable…'

'Yes, I already heard about it.' nervously said the head assassin. 'Well, let's hope the man will drop out of the comatose soon, the next semester starts in couple of days…'

'And what she did to dearest Mr. Smith when he was attending to attack her in…'

'Yes…' sighed Downey. 'Such a loss for us all. Well, there are a lot of lecturers these days, I'm sure you will find a substitute soon, after all we have so many requests from our members these days…'

'And did you hear what she did yesterday? Oh, my dearest Yo!'

'Yes, Mr. Pathety, I did hear. Unfortunately. And I saw. To my horror…'

'Where did she learn to fight like that? After all she is just a woman…' squealed the Dean, already standing up.

'She is a sister of You-Know-Who.' answered Downey. 'It was expected, after all…' He sighed deeply and stared at the scar face of the man at his front. 'Do you think she is ready for the… final exam?'

The old man shivered at his cold stare and sat weakly back in his chair.

'Well, if I have to be honest, sir…' He travelled his eyes around Downey's, trying not to fix them where they shouldn't be fixed right now and continued slightly unsure. 'She had… well… that… big mouth…'

'Yes?' slowly said Downey feasting his eyes on the Dean's redden face.

The man cleared his throat. 'I still believe she has not the proper… lady like behaviour… sir… I suppose this is quite… important for a young woman with such skills… you know… The city and all the nobilities… And stuff…'

'You are saying…?' Downey tried not to show his smile.

'Maybe we could… polish her somehow…' said Mr. Pathety. 'You know… art stuff… lady lessons of deportment…'

Downey lifted his eyebrows.

'But you say she is prepared for the Task?'

'Somehow… yes, sir' answered the Dean of the Assassin's school faculty. 'Quite soon, I guess.'

'Right' said Lord Downey. 'Send her to Mrs. Grumble next week. She must do something to polish this… as you might say rough diamond. And report at the end of the week. I want to know what is happening. This young chatterbox might be very useful for us all, Mr. Pathety.'

When the Dean exited, Lord Downey squeezed his lips and said like to himself.

'If her brother fails…'

---

Jovial went through the open door at his left, made some small quiet steps and stared at the man's head's back, sitting in his chair. It was not even dark, no one would expect such visit so early in the afternoon. He heard the man moving, he pricked up his ears, already listening closely to the breathing of the subject. There were only few steps to the chair, he even saw the edge of the book the man was reading.

Jovial silently started unbuttoned his jacket, the buttons obeyed obediently and displayed the cotton-steel net of his vest, where he put his daggers. There was only one step to the object, Jovial made it very slowly, plucking his ears to everything he could consider as dangerous.

It was hard to gather all the information he needed, but he was excellently educated assassin, a professional with style and well-known name. Alice had to dig deep, but he dig even deeper. He run his fingers through the vest, put them in a little pocket and pulled out a pill. He crushed it into his gloves and greased the stiletto in his right hand.

The stab was quiet, the blade went into the chair's back, penetrating through the stuffing, the wooden laths and the leather cloth, going deep into the body, already shivering with pain. The head turned, the grey eyes stared at Jovial's sad eyes, some moisture bubbles sprung out of his mouth and the voice, chocking with blood and pain and fear pronounced:

'Why?'

Jovial pulled off the blade, the man shivered and leaned forward, already closing his eyes. Jovial swallowed hardly.

'Lord Albert Squint… This is an errand from your younger brother.'

The old man weakly open his eyes and pronounced slowly.

'How could you… break through… the guards…. And the trap…. doors… and… the lockers…'

Jovial smiled nervously, put a hand on his neck, counting the blood beats calming down, the poison penetrating into his cells, chasing away the life from the weakened body. Then he gathered the hands of the man in his front and whispered.

'I am sorry…'

No one noticed him exiting. Even the dogs in the anteroom, guarding the solid steel door, and the guards, staying in front of the case-hardened steel pill-box, where the richest Gold manufacturer in Ankh-Morpork had ensconced for the last couple of years.

Late in the evening the newspaper boys spread the news. Lord Downey smiled when he read the evening edition of 'The Times' and thoughtfully tapped his fingers on the heavy dusty yellowish file at his desk.


	3. Gentlemen!

**To plot or not to plot?...**

**---**

_I would like to thank you all for the comments. And special thanks to Hamlet II for the helpful beta. _

_I hope you will enjoy the third chapter. Have fun. _

_---_

**3. Gentlemen!**

It was very late when Lord Downey entered into the big shady room. No one would suspect them gather there, no one would _ever_ suspect anyone get into that old massive building. It was closed for some years and as far as he knew, all the servants were gone for more than decade. The rich dust on the huge ebony table covered it all, although there were some fresh fingerprints, left from the hands of the enshrouded people gathered around it.

Lord Downey coughed, coming closer and sat on his place, leading the table. The calm handclaps followed slowly.

'Very good job, Downey.' said a voice. The head Assassin turned to its direction, but the hood over the man's face didn't let him see. Lord Downey puffed annoyingly.

'Do we have to follow that stupid procedure, gentlemen?' he said. 'It's so silly…'

Another voice from the deep corner of the table answered:

'If we have to plot, then we have to do it the right way. Don't you think so?'

Downey rounded his eyes.

'No, I don't think so.'

'But it's so funny.' said someone from his around. 'And it's so shady here and we are all dressed as real plotters and we are talking to each other so silently and we don't show our faces…'

'This is ridiculous.' angrily insisted Downey. 'We all know who we are, after all we are plotting against our common enemy and we know what will…' He sighed boredly. 'Is this all necessary?'

The table remained calm for a while, then a voice followed:

'I believe it's quite necessary, Downey.'

The assassin leaned back in his chair and sighed. 'All right. If you really insist…'

The table became calm. It needed more than a minute until someone spoke again. One of the figures stood up slowly. Downey could hardly discern who he was, but he strangely reminded him Lord Rodney Rust, Vetinari's longest adversary. He sighed boringly, expecting to hear another of his long and deadly dull tirades.

'Gentlemen, we all know what happened to our own Lord Squint and how ingeniously our Benelux did the job. Now we have to think about the other thing. We all know this is going to be very dangerous and perhaps unsuccessful, but as we already saw, I mean what we already _heard_, the young man did really have the job perfectly done. It was actually toilsome deed, we all know how cautious Lord Squint was and how dreadful his assassination was becoming for some years…'

'Gods bless his soul!' said the others with one voice.

'Gods bless his soul' repeated the figure. 'But as far as we suspect, the boy might succeed. After all he could do the old man for less than a week. And there was no data at all in his file. Gathering the information and doing one of the most painful jobs ever… Well, I think Benelux might be ready for the _other_ thing. Any comments, Downey?'

Lord Downey moved slowly to the table, pressing his palms together. His eyes closed for a second, then he remembered something and pronounced with trembling voice:

'He is ready, of course. But I don't believe he would be ever ready for _His_ response. Do you remember the last time? We were hoping we were found the perfect man, but…'

'Downey!' shouted a voice from the group. 'Don't divert!'

'All right.' said the head Assassin. 'Benelux is good. He is more than good, even. He might do the job very well...'

'Do you have something on mind?' asked a shivering figure from his close.

Downey squeezed his lips. Of course he had something on mind. He always had something on mind. Using Benelux for this task was very dangerous job. And he strangely believed there would be something in him he couldn't control. The head Assassin must control everything about any of his employees. But Benelux and his sister didn't show any sign of being anxious or even disturbed by his presence. Those made him feel strangely aware. What would happen if he succeeds? Would it mean he would be appropriate to take his job? To take his place in the guild? Downey sighed deeply. He had so many thoughts in his mind, but he had no idea how to make them calm and regulate, especially in the last twenty-four hours.

'Downey?' asked a voice, making him wake up.

Lord Downey shivered slightly, already facing the mantled figures gathered around the table.

'No.' he answered. 'The man is just for the job. I believe he would do it successfully.'

The others in the room had deep sighs.

'Well, when would you give him the assignment?' asked another man. Downey lifted his eyebrows.

'Not too soon, gentlemen.' he answered thoughtfully. 'I believe it would be quite suspicious if I launch the contract right now.'

'Why?'

'Because Benelux suspects already and if he suspects, then other people suspect. And if other people suspect, then You-Know-Who suspects also… After all don't forget where we are…'

Some people turned around to see if there was some suspicious movement. Downey continued:

'But soon, gentlemen, we would be able to launch our little plan and I believe the result would be more than satisfying for all of us.' Downey leaned back in his chair. A figure suspiciously looking like Lord Boggys stood up slowly.

'Is this the moment we have to think about the person taking _His_ position?' He looked around, adding rapidly. 'Or I am too fast going into...'

A man sitting at his front answered thoughtfully:

'It is a good idea to start our little research. Maybe it's better to think about the successor in advance, gentlemen. After all we all know what happens to the city when there is no leading person. Klatch war, remember?'

'There was not any Klatch war, Selachii.' another figure replied angrily. 'It was just a misjudgement, a fate's game, nothing more.'

'But there were people who died…'

'Come on, man, there are many people dying all the time. Two or three more – who cares?'

'I still believe there was a moment the city was in a rapid disorder those days and I don't think it should happen again…'

'It will never happen again. My troops..'

'_Your_ troops, Venturii? Military men in _Ankh-Morpork_? Vimes would never let it happen...'

'Then he has to go with Vetinari also.'

'Sam Vimes? Him? Come on, be reasonable! He is even worse than Vetinari himself. If we ever try to launch his contract he would arrest us all just because he wants to see us all locked in his dungeon.'

'He has _no_ dungeon!' shouted a man.

'Don't shout at me, like I am a complete idiot!'

'And you don't tell me what to do!'

'I will tell you what to do, because it's obvious you are an imbecile who doesn't know how to use his brain cells…'

'You, drummer! _How dare you_ speaking to a noble man with such...'

'Gentlemen!' shouted Downey, establishing some kind of order in the room. The raised men around the table stared at his direction with a lack of understanding, but soon they calmed their nerves and settled back in their recent places. The two opponents almost fighting some seconds ago settled last, avoiding their stares for as long as they could. Downey sighed deeply.

'Did you notice that we fight every time we come to that topic? Every time we come to some decision according Vetinari's position we turn into crazy cocks, fighting for a hen house?'

'But the hen house is really big.' answered one of the fighting men. 'And I wouldn't let anyone unequal to take this position. It's our duty to find and elect the perfect man. Otherwise we are all doomed.'

'You are right, old friend.' answered the other opponent. 'If we take the wrong decision we have to answer for our actions with our lives. After all, you know what happened the last time. Remember?'

'Lord Snapcase was a wrong decision, but he was the perfect for that time.' said some one Downey couldn't recognise.

'What if we choose the wrong man again?' thoughtfully said the man in Downey's closest position. 'What if we choose our second Lord Snapcase?'

'Then we have to be very careful, I suppose.' answered Lord Selachii. 'And we have to think about it for longer than it takes.' He sighed. 'All right, gentlemen. Meet you here again in one week. Everyone will have the right to launch a name. No matter whose name it is.'

'Yes.' said the man sitting in his right. 'Next Monday, the same place, the same time.'

The rest of the people stood up slowly, gathering in groups and exited from the room. Downey followed their withdrawal still sitting. He remained silent for some more seconds, then he stood up slowly, already facing the door, when he heard a voice in his back.

'Have a nice evening, Lord Downey.'

Downey turned around to see, but there was no one. He shivered for a while, then he tried to stare into the darkness, but as far as there were no movement and definitely no deeper shadows, he relaxed, blaming himself for the rich imagination playing with his mind. He exited through the massive front door. The deep shadow moved for a second, producing a ray spark of silent light of someone's bright white teeth.

---

Jovial was in his bed, when Alice opened the door. He pulled the dagger under his pillow ready to throw it, but stopped, looking at his sister's face. He jumped up.

'What happened?'

Alice murmured something, sitting in the chair at her reach and lowered her head.

'Is there something I should know, Alice?' asked Jovial, coming closer. She looked at him and pronounced slowly:

'I…' she cleared her throat. 'I hit Grumble's face…'

Jovial smiled slightly, then his face coloured in red and his voice went into hysterical laugh. 'You did _what_?'

Alice fixed her eyes in his shivering lips, squeezed her eyes and smiled in reply. 'What do you think I should do if someone reaches my head so quickly, bro? Just stay and wait? I'm not stupid, you know. How could I know she just wanted to fasten my collar?'

Jovial burst into deep laughter, sitting in his bed again. Alice smiled slightly nervously. 'That's not funny, Jov' said Alice. 'What am I going to do now? Pathety said I was a total disaster…'

Jovial looked at her, already suppressing his laughter. 'You couldn't resist, could you?' he said. 'That's what I thought. Now you owe me fifty pennies. Come on, foot the bill.'

Alice stared at his genuine smile, then she thrust her hand into her pocket, drawing a little snake-leather purse.

'Eat that, you, little rot nasty lousy…'

'Uhum!' said Jovial, squeezing his eyes. 'You are not supposed to say that, you know.' Alice smiled shamefully and started blinking with her eyes. He smiled.

'Now, what would you do?' he asked, staring at the window. Alice sighed deeply, following his stare. 'How could I know? Pathety said he should reach for the back-up plan. What ever that means.' She stared at Jovial, he sighed and lowered his head. 'You know what will happen soon, don't you?' Alice nodded. 'Did he say anything about _that_? You know what I mean…' asked the woman. The young assassin made a face making her understand he was in two minds. 'I really waver what to think' he said. 'That was just a test, I know. To see what I could do, before give me the real job. But when and how, I don't know. It's a mystery, that man. But I suppose he would launch the thing soon, so we have to prepare for it. You know what I mean.' He stared at her. Alice nodded.

'I already did some research, bro. He is absolutely unpredictable. Thirty four unsuccessful attempts. Finished dreadfully disgusting. I don't know what to think. Do you really have to do this? It seems nasty dangerous, bro.'

Jovial sighed and stared at the window again. Alice waited for his reply for some more time, then she stood up slowly, tapping his shoulder, tried to put a smile, but unsuccessfully and went into her room. Jovial stood still for some more time, then he looked at the falling darkness and especially to the massive tall building in the far end of his view. He went to the small dusty wardrobe, already reaching for his black suit.

---


	4. Tea party

_Sorry for the delay, guys. Here is the 4th chapter of the story. Have fun and be honest in your oppinion. _

_Thanks to those who reviewed and to those who would. And special thanks to... you know who..._

_I hope you will like it. Because I did have fun when I wrote it._

_-------------------------------------------_

**To plot or not to plot?...**

**4. Tea party**

While she was walking to her newest etiquette tutor, Alice went through one of the books Mr. Pathety gave her. Knowing that the last exam would be quite soon -- which she was really waiting for, because everything about her graduation had become too boring -- she was in two minds. The dean of the Scorpion School for Advanced Students made it clear that if she fails with this teacher, it would be the final thing she should do in her rapidly disappearing career as an assassin. She tried to think about anything else and that's why she took that particular book. Author…hmm… She'd never heard of anyone called Rinsewind, especially one writing about how to survive. She had to keep her self-control, while reading this… masterpiece. Especially going though the 'What to do if…' part.

Pathety described the building. It was not that big as Alice imagined, but the mansion really spoke about some fortune… Well… it used to be nice looking some centuries ago…

When the butler opened the door she had to suppress her laughter, because he was not definitely looking like a butler, especially with the yellow overalls and the pink rubber gloves.

'May I help you, ma'am?' asked the butler, trying to hide the wire brush behind his stretched back. Alice smiled and coughed. 'I come to see…' she pulled a note from her pocket, stared at it and pronounced in an unconvincing manner. '…Sybil… let me see what is written here… Ah, yes, Sybil Ramkin-Vima… No, wait, I can do it. Sybil Ramkin-Vimo… Damn! Bloody handwriting!'

'Vimes?' suggested the butler. Alice sighed. 'Yes. Sybil Ramkin-Vimes.'

Willikins moved aside, letting her through. 'I shall see if her ladyship is available.' Alice followed him into the little Cosy Pink Flowered Shiny Dragon-Smelly drawing room. She tried to sit on one of the chairs there, but jumped when she saw the huge burned spot, cut through the fat leather seat. The other chairs were not in better condition, and Alice was not very tired, so she stood by the windowsill and started to read the book again.

'_372. If you appear somehow in a forest, that looks somehow differently than your back yard where you were playing with the plastic gnomes you accidentally had borrowed from the neighbour from the far end of other street while you were a kid, and you hear a noise, that doesn't sound like a good kiddish melody your mother used to sing you until you are asleep, nevertheless it comes from a bunny-rabbit or from eating flesh mosquito the local mad scientist was experimenting with_…' Alice stopped her eyes on the following three-letter word and smiled. Then she turned the cover and stared at the front page. 'Yes,' she thought, '"Rinsewind's universal survival guide"…' She returned to the previous page.

'_373. If you are given with an interestingly looking object, described as completely harmless tool for caps unscrewing, for instance, on which label on the producer's part is written a name closely familiar someway to the spelling of "Johnson", don't listen to anyone, just drop the tool and _run_!' _

Alice smiled again. She sat on the big pink coloured leather couch and counted the pages she had to read, when she heard the noise, coming from the behind of the closed massive door. The floor shivered, as like some really huge animal herd was galloping in threatened closeness. The door opened and a large looking smiling woman came through, already reaching for her hand.

'Oh, dear. You must be that new apprentice I have.' Sybil looked at her with interest, rounded her some times examining her from down to up and giggled joyfully. 'You don't look like an assassin, girly. More like one of the guild members I officially don't know, but play cards with. Let me look at you… Mmm… Pretty one. Sweet… Jolly sweet… Oh, that reminds me, when Sam, my _Husband_, comes, pretend you are one of the ladies that often visit me these days. Will you? Just pretend you are some selfish lofty aristocratic bitch, excuse my klatchian, all right? I really want to see his face when I introduce you. He will be so confused, and I really want to turn him back for the scoff at me. Last time he…'

Sybil turned back to follow Willikins's cough and smiled, facing the confused young woman at her front. 'Oh… bugger… I forgot… I'm such a mess… I am expecting another visitor. He…' she was looking quite puzzled, which made Alice lift her eyebrows. Sybil blinked thoughtfully for some seconds, then she grinned again and exploded in joyful laughter. 'Well, it doesn't matter. Anyway, it would be interesting to see his reaction too. Would you start pretending now, please?'

Alice lifted her shoulders, recovering from her embarrassment. 'I'm not sure I could bring it right, Sybil' said Alice, sighing. 'But what the hell. I'll try.'

Sybil tapped her back and Alice really tried not to react as only she could, waived slightly at the push and made a step forward. Sybil smiled and nodded to Willikins. 'Let him in.'

The butler, still wearing his yellow overalls, took of the gloves and closed the door.

'Now, dear' whispered Sybil, leaning over the young woman, watching very carefully where she was sitting. 'You are an aristocrat, you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth; anyone that doesn't have more than three names after his firs doesn't exist for you... Could you pretend you are over everything and don't care who you step on when you are coming out from your carriage? Good… Now, up the chin, stretch the back as you have walking stick in your spine… half close your eyes as you don't have to see whatever that isn't wearing a pound of diamonds… that's right, dear… and speak expressively, like you want to be heard from the first time, because you don't want to repeat what you just said, because you are too lazy to speak and you can't find someone doing that for you…'

Lady Sybil already settled in her damaged chair and turned to Alice again, tapping her hand. 'And I'm sorry for the chair, dear.' Alice tried to stand up, but Sybil pressed her back. 'Little Johnny Silverhead Naggertail Quirmian the forty-third had really bad day this morning. Sorry for that, Willikins is still trying to scrub his remains from the Slightly Yellow With Green Leaves Uncomfortable Drawing room.' She sighed. 'If he only could go to the little dragons room as he should, he would be still…' She sighed deeply. 'But as soon Willikins feels ready, he will take care for the new furniture. I suppose the furniture store still have some of these chairs in stock.' She smiled at Alice and turned to the door. Alice followed her stare.

Some seconds later the door opened and a tall black dressed man entered the room, came closer and sat in his usual place not mentioning the total absence of the chair's elbow-rest. The old little chubby dog following him slowly under his seat, looked at the rest of the people with his tired red eyes and lounged down clumsy, yawning sleepily.

'Good afternoon, lady Sybil' he said, then, turning to Alice, pronounced calmly 'Good afternoon, miss Band.'

Sybil tapped her knees with a giggle. 'Oh, Havelock! I was so sure I could cheat you this time…' Alice broke her amazed stare and looked down at the dog, opening lazily his sleepy eyes.

Lord Vetinari sighed deeply, leaning back in his chair. Sybil waved her finger. 'Next time I will make up something different, be sure about that. After all someday I might get you.'

Alice was staring at him with total disgusting look. 'So… you are Vetinari,' she pronounced. 'You don't look like tyrant that much.'

Sybil giggled, staring at the Patrician, staring at the young woman in his front. 'As far as I recall I was never called tyrant, miss Band' he said calmly. 'Not in your face, that's sure' answered Alice. 'You look like someone that have a huge arsenal with nail snatching pliers you keep in your hidden sacred place in your basement, full with complete collection of the 'Modern sadist' magazine.'

Vetinari smiled. Sybil giggled again.

'I see you know each other' she said. Alice answered 'Never seen' him before.' Sybil sighed slowly. 'Well, shall we have a tea now?' She turned to Vetinari. 'Alice is my newest etiquette apprentice, Havelock. Imagine? Moi – tutor, in my age…' She rang the bell, turning to Willikins, still holding the wire brush in his pink rubber gloves. The tea was served recently, under Sybil's long monologue explanations what exactly happened to little Johnny Silverhead Naggertail Quirmian the forty-third. Alice tried to behave normally, although Vetinari's cold stare made her wish to forget about everything and just stood up and slap his face.

When the second teapot was served, the Patrician spoke finally.

'Have you settled well, miss Band? I have heard Mrs. Steelplate's boarding house is quite windy these days of the year, when she washes the household linen.'

Alice sighed and gave a time to think before answering. 'Yes, thank you. It's fine.' She sipped from her teacup, half closing her eyes, watching the supreme ruler of Ankh-Morpork, doing just the same. 'And how do you feel, knowing that soon you will have to shake a very bony hand?' she asked, pretending not looking at him. He sighed, leaning back. 'Fine, thank you' he answered. 'I am definitely looking for the new Zlobenian ambassador's arrival, Miss Band. How nice of you reminding me.'

---

'You sent her _where_?' stood up Dr. Downey. Mr. Pathety slipped down desperately.

'To l-lady… S-sybil's…' stammered the dean of the Scorpion School for Advanced Students, swallowing with difficult.

The head assassin shot daggers at him with his cold stare.

'Have you completely lost _your mind_, Pathety?' he scowled, already walking around his well-arranged gothic desk. 'Who, the disc, told you to send her _there_?'

The old man cleared nervously his throat and tried to avoid Downey's dark eyes. 'You said it yourself, sir: "Get the girl a nice tutor, and do it fast"… This is what I did…'

'You are completely mad!' yelled Lord Downey, already fixing his stare with the far too inconvenient for the old man closeness. 'Aren't there other tutors? The town is full with aristocrats. Why did you send her in the snake's pit, man? Do you know _who_ goes there from time to time?' The dean didn't answer, just shook his head, trying to pick up his courage back. Some seconds later he pronounced shivery: 'This was… the only alternative we had, sir…'

'What?' cried Downey. Mr. Pathety cleared his throat.

'No one wanted her… sir…'

The head assassin stared with the total determination of someone ready to walk through dead corpses. Mr. Pathety shivered, cleared his throat again and tried not to look at Downey's rage face, while saying:

'I sent her to lady Selachii first, but she sent her back with a definitely distinctive note, saying that she doesn't want to see her for the rest of her life… Then I sent her to lady Venturii, you know how calm she usually is… But an hour later lady Venturii's butler came here and asked if someone would be so kind and take…' he blinked nervously. '…the unsuitable element out of the house… it seems she broke something very valuable in her rage there…' He lowered his eyes, sighing. 'Then I sent her to… uhum… Mrs. Palm, but the girl came back some hours later and then I received a very threatened perfumed note claiming never to use these kinds of guild's services again…'

He looked at Dr. Downey and as far as there was no rage in his eyes any more, Mr. Pathety blinked for some seconds, and plucking up his courage, pronounced calmly: 'That was the only alternative, sir. If we want to turn her into some kind of a lady, then we have to…'

Lord Downey closed his eyes, obviously trying to count to ten.

'Take her back!' he ordered, sighing desperately. 'The training is over. Tell her to prepare for the final exam.' He looked at the old man's shivering eyelids and whispered with the most threatened of all his voices. 'And, Mr. Pathety, do it _now_!'

Mr. Pathety blinked for some seconds, still fixing his eyes into his boss. Then he read the rage climbing on his face and stood up, hurriedly.

'Yes, sir. Right this moment, sir. I'll do it myself, sir.'

When Lord Downey was left alone, he sighed slowly, helplessly sat in Mr. Pathety's chair and lowered his head, whispering thoughtfully.

'Let's hope they've never met…' he sighed. 'Otherwise she would knock him into a cocked hat.' Then his rich imagination played its role and he shivered, standing up. 'And it might lead to something very dangerous for all of us…'

---

Lady Sybil was definitely having fun, watching her both guests _not_ arguing. Lord Vetinari was polite as ever, but the young assassin seemed loosing her patience.

'_Phy! Fabulae!_ _1_' said Alice and leaned back in her chair. Vetinari stared at her and lifted his eyebrows, pressing his palms in front of his lips.

'I see you are not far from the old Latatian, miss Band.' Alice smiled nervously and rolled her eyes.

'Dear Yo! He understood my words… I was sure idi… uhum… people like you wouldn't have an idea...' She sighed. 'What a loose… If someone such like _you_ speaks such noble language, then we are all lost…' She sipped from her teacup for last time, stood up, letting Whiskers step tiredly out of her lap on the devastated dragon-outlined carpet and came closer to Lady Sybil. 'Sorry, Sybil. I can't stay. There are some…' she looked at Vetinari. '…I hope I could see you around… Sometimes…' She turned to face the Patrician and pronounced with the higher disgust she was capable to. 'And you… Vetinari…' she squeezed her eyes. 'I believe I won't see you again, b'couse if…'

Willikins opened the door.

'Excuse me, miss Band, there is a man at the door. He says…'

'Oh, good' said Alice. 'Ta-ta, everyone. Won't miss me, go on with whatever pompous aristocrats do, I'm out!'

Lady Sybil giggled when the young woman went out of the room. She turned to Vetinari and smiled.

'What a girl. Isn't she just perfect?'

The Patrician sighed. 'Indeed, Sybil' he said calmly. 'What a… precious… creature.' Sybil turned to the small round table at her left, already lifting the chilled teapot, turning her back to Vetinari's face. He half-closed his eyes and put his gathered palms in front of his tight lips. He leaned back in his chair and took the teacup the woman gave him, sipped for a while and sighed thoughtfully.

---

Jovial tried to read the students' tests, squeezing the red pencil in his fingers. If someone would have told him he would teach such narrow-minded idiots he would not have believed them. They were staring at him all the time, writing in their notebooks, not mentioning the trap sentences he put in his speech, no idea he was joking with them almost all the time, checking who, the disc, they were. How could such idiots be students in the Scorpion School for _Advanced_ Students? Even his sister was times and times better then them, while she was eight years old.

He looked at the large pile of papers in his front, coloured in red remarks. He sighed, while he was checking the tests again. Everyone failed, nevertheless it was the simplest of all of his tests. He leaned back in his chair, calming himself down. The door opened slowly, he dragged the dagger stuck under his desk, ready to throw it. Alice's face appeared in the open.

'Having fun, bro?' asked Alice, already closing the door behind her. Jovial sighed desperately. He handed her an empty test.

'Oh, cool' smiled Alice. 'You want to test me? Jolly, jolly! Give me the pencil.'

She started reading.

"_First question: How many windows are here? Don't turn, if turn – lose five points_"… Hmm… Three. One in the left, covered with grey cotton curtains. Next – curtains up, paint bark in down right corner. Last – in your nearest, curtains down.'

"_Second question: Where would you hide in the room, so not to be found_?" Mmm, Jov, you are such a jerk! Let me see… Not in the wardrobe, you'll check there first. Under the desk? No. Too obvious. Behind the curtains? Definitely not. Where? Probably… If everyone would be here, running and panicking around to find where to hide, I would stay where I am right now. Pretty cool to hide under your nose, right? If not… then I'll hide behind the door and when you come in, I'll follow your steps with a... Or I could climb on the ceiling in the corner over there, pretty dark it seems, and good place, giving enough room to rummage into the hidden pockets for arrows and daggers… Did I pass?'

Jovial lifted his eyebrows. Alice continued reading aloud.

"_Third question. What do I have in my pockets?_" She looked at him, blinking with her eyes. 'What are you trying to do, bro? Knock them out in the corner? What kind of test is this?'

Jovial sighed boredly. 'Go on, Alice.'

The young woman smiled nervously. 'Pockets… Yeah… They seem not full, I see some lineaments: pencil, daggers – two, coins – not big enough and not much, otherwise they would rip up your pocket… about a dollar. Am I right?'

Jovial sighed, lifting up from his chair, already turning his pockets inside out. Alice smiled, looking at Jovial's bored face. She blinked for a second. 'Did _anyone_ pass?' He said nothing, but his face was desperate enough. Alice came closer, enough to whisper in his ear.

'The final test is tomorrow.'

Jovial blinked for a second, then he stood up and took her hand, already shaking it with the happiest sound he could give. The young woman's face made him sit down. She rounded her eyes, trying to avoid his stare.

'I met Vetinari this afternoon' she pronounced calmly. Jovial stared scarely at her.

'Did he do anything to you?' he jumped from his place. Alice smiled nervously.

'Not at all, bro. I think I did something to him. At least I tried…' She squeezed her eyes shot. 'He is unbreakable, Jov.' said Alice after long period of silence. 'I tried anything. Insulted him, threatened him, called him 'bustard', 'sadist', even 'tyrant', but he looks he doesn't have nerves, bro.' She sat in her previous place. 'I don't know what to say, Jov. He looks really dangerous. If I were you, I would never…'

Jovial sighed hardly.

'It's too late, Alice' he pronounced. 'I already took the contract…'

Alice stared at him. 'You did _what_?'

Jovial rolled his eyes.

'An hour ago. Downey asked for my presence and when I came, he handed me the file.' He looked at Alice's rage face. 'I couldn't refuse, sis. There are things I couldn't refuse. This contract is one of them.' His eyes glittered with strange fires Alice haven't seen for years, which made her sigh again, closing her eyes and put her face in her palms.

'You…' she started thinking which insults to use. Then she looked at his eyes and her rage disappeared. He looked so happy, so ready for action. She sighed again. 'When would you do it?' she asked, fixing her eyes in his. He blinked nervously, leaned back in his chair and looked thoughtfully into the ceiling.

'How can I help you, Jovial? Is there something I could do for you?' asked Alice, standing up and coming closer. 'I still don't have all the data you might need, but if I go there once again and if he appears to be there, I would…'

Jovial stood up, stared at her with the coldest of all his stares and said through his clenched teeth.

'You are _not_ meeting him again, Alice!'

Alice stared at her brother, trying to read his eyes, but soon she found out he was not joking at all and slowly went to her seat. Jovial still stared at her. He calmed down his temper and pronounced as cool as he could. 'Now you are going home and stay there until I go back.'

She opened her blue eyes widely.

'And you are not opening the door to any one, Alice' said Jovial. 'Everyone who wants to get inside have the keys.'

He came to her, took her arm and said nervously.

'Come on, I'm taking you home. Don't say anything, just obey.' He looked at her lifting her eyebrows and nervously sighed. 'Just this time, Alice. Please…'

---

Lord Vetinari closed the file on the desk in front of him and looked through the window in his left. The darkness from the outside was deeper at this time of the night. Too late to go to sleep and definitely too early to start the new working day. He sighed deeply. Looked at the pile of papers he had pass through and the file he just read and signed. He put it over the rest of the stack and leaned back in his chair. Then he moved slowly, lifted up and made few steps to the closed invisible door, already pressing the hidden key. The panel opened, lord Vetinari stared at it and unbuttoned the top stud of his robe, pronouncing calmly:

'Have a nice morning, Mr. Band. Please, close the window, when you go out.'

The deep shadow remained still. Vetinari sighed tiredly.

'One advise, young man' he said, starting entering into the narrow corridor. 'Stay still, when you hide in the darkness, Mr. Band. The body paint works only if you stay still.'

The shadows in the deep corner didn't move. Vetinari started closing the door behind him.

When the panel closed, the deep shadow moved slightly. Jovial opened his eyes, put a hand over the belt where he kept his weapons and cursed:

'Damn!'

_1 Bah! Humbug! (latin)_


	5. The Angel

_Thank you for the reviews. BTK, you are more than nice to me, I appretiate this. Yes, there is no match to Vetinari, as you might see in this chapter (the final one!!!). _

_Some comments to other reviews not connected to this story:_

_Vetinari's Eyes: Thank you, your review wormed my heart. The truth is that I welcome any comment, especially if it has criticism in it. You know, I have been told once: 'If your work doesn't receive critics, then there is something very weird happening around you'. Wise words. But thank you very much. I owe you a smile._

_Grey eyed blond: Yes... No... (if you want a detailed answer, feel free to send me your e-mail and I will do my best, as far as I could)_

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**To plot or not to plot?... **

**5. The Angel**

Alice woke up with the strange feeling there was something wrong happening around her. She opened her eyes to see nothing; it was quite dark, but in a few seconds her trained assassin eyes could detect the slim figure of her brother sitting on the edge of her bed. She stared at him. She would have not recognise him if there wasn't the gentle sounds of his breathing and the slow movement of his chests. He sat still, looking more like a statue, not the brother she knew. The darkness shadowed his face, but in some time the full moon's light coming from the open window did its job and she could see the empty look he was fixing into the grey spot on the opposite wall. She jumped up hurriedly. Jovial turned to see her amazed stare and sighed deeply. Alice felt her skin frozen, she knew that look. It meant there was something very nasty to come.

'What is wrong, Jovial?' she asked, staring at him. He leaned his head back to the bedpost, then he returned the stare, his face was pale, and there was a strange light in his eyes Alice had never seen before.

'You should return, Alice' said Jovial thoughtfully and turned back to the spot on the wall. Alice blinked for some seconds.

'Return where?' she asked, trying not to show she knew exactly what he was meaning.

Jovial moaned and lowered his head.

'Back to Benelux…'

He stood up, going as far as he could from Alice's severe stare. She groaned deeply, welcoming his stampede and leaned slowly back on her pillow. Alice thought for a while, before answering his proposal. No, it didn't sound like proposal. It sounded like… an edict.

'I will say it only once…' she said, closing her eyes, swallowing the anger galloping through her nerves. She thought for a second, then sighed deeply and relaxed, calming herself down, slowly stating with her eyes wide open. 'I Am Not Going Back… Jovial!'

The young assassin turned to look at her reddened face and made a sudden step back. Then he came to his senses and murmured calmly:

'I know what I'm telling you, Alice. Please listen to me!'

Alice tried not to react spontaneously and just continued staring. She cleared her thoughts from the growing anger and took a deep breath. Jovial took a small step to her, letting her know he was not giving up from his words.

'The city is not safe for you any more…'

Alice stared at him. He took another step to her direction, sat on his previous place and put his hand over her relaxed palm. Alice felt something wrong in his hold - the blood in his veins beat weird… there was something definitely wrong…

'Is there anything I should know?' she asked. Jovial stared at the spot again, saying nothing. Alice anxiously repeated the question, but the result was the same. She knew what this was coming to. She relaxed on her pillow and waited nervously. Some minutes in silence had passed, when Jovial finally spoke.

'He knew already…'

The young woman didn't answer. Jovial tried to turn at her direction, but hesitated and stared at the empty space on the opposite wall.

'He knew I was there, sis…' Jovial continued, swallowing with difficulty. Then he looked at her and uttered with trembling voice 'I will do it tonight, Alice…'

Alice blinked hardly, turning her ears for every sound her brother would have spoken. She closed her eyes and sighed. Jovial looked down, moving his hand closely to hers, grabbed her by the shoulders and hugged her tight. Alice blinked in surprise. He had never hugged her before. He'd never given her any brotherly support, other than a handshake. He was the strongest, the coldest, the bravest of all the brothers in the Universe.

Alice couldn't move. Jovial held her so tight she couldn't inhale. It was the first touch she had from him and she didn't know what to think. It was so strange and so… pleasant. She closed her eyes and let her brother hug her as long as he could, letting her difficult breathing and her nervousness go apart from her relaxed senses. Soon enough she felt his face skin moisturing hers and hesitated to say anything at all.

When he stood up and left the room, Alice didn't have to ask him. She already knew he came to say Good By. She lifted up her hand to erase the tear falling from her eye. Then she stood up and put on her coat in a hurry.

---

Drumknott stood at attention in front of his master, looking nervously at the papers in his Lordship's hold. Lord Havelock Vetinari put the file on the desk and looked up, sending his clerk into a panic.

'Is that all?' he asked.

Drumknott sighed desperately, opened his mouth to say something, but the words caught in his throat. He swallowed with difficult.

'Unfortunately clerk Dominic had no luck at all, sir' he said. 'It seems she went out from the boarding house in a hurry and when he followed, she just…'

'That is not an excuse, Drumknott' said the Patrician slowly and sat back in his chair. 'What interests me is what had been done. I recall I had specific orders which had not been produced till now.'

The clerk blinked nervously and lowered his head, answering with difficulty.

'The squad is on the task, sir.'

Vetinari looked up again.

'Your _special_ squad? How interesting…'

Drumknott tried to smile, but his face muscles refused to move. He blinked with difficulty and pronounced with trembling voice.

'We had the feeling that the squad would be most appropriate to take the…'

'We?' Vetinari leaned back, lifting the gathered palms to his beard level. Drumknott burst into panic.

'Y-yes, sir…' said Drumknott. 'Me and…'

'…And?'

'And…'

The Patrician sighed slowly. He stood up and moved to the large window, viewing the city. He stood silently for longer time Drumknott would endure, then he faced him slowly and said with the calmest of all his voices.

'Report in an hour, I want to know everything happening to the subject. And please, make sure the other subject receives the message properly. No excuse this time. If anything happens I would like to know. If not, the same. And Drumknott…'

The clerk opened his eyes with a desperate look, gazing at the slim black robed man in his front.

Vetinari went back to his place, lifted up the papers from the desk and enunciated slowly.

'Make sure to make the right decisions without anyone's interference this time. I will not tolerate failure, nevertheless coming from you or from any other person I am in charge on. Remove the Dark Clerks squad, their services are not required… Yet… I shall see when to launch their participation. You are dismissed.'

Drumknott blinked nervously, lowering his reddened face, bowed slowly and made some quick steps to the door.

'One final thing, Drumknott…'

The clerk removed his hand from the door handle, sighing desperately, facing his master's uninterested look, stabbering into the next report left in his field of vision. Lord Vetinari's silence continued enough to make him nervous.

'Yes, Milord?' asked the young man, losing his patience. The Patrician slowly lifted up his eyelids and uttered with cold voice.

'Please, make sure the Guild committee gathers tomorrow morning, not that early as the last time, let's say… seven O'clock. I would be satisfied if every one of them participates in our little assembly, _no excuse_. That is for now.'

Drumknott nodded in reply. It was midnight already. The Guild presidents wouldn't be very satisfied, but they were never satisfied. He smiled nervously and opened the door.

The deep shadow in his left, moved imperceptibly.

Lord Vetinari followed the door closing and said:

'Welcome back, Mr. Band.'

---

Vetinari stood from his chair. The darkness moved slowly, producing the face of a young woman, dressed in the casual assassin black.

'Oh, excuse me, miss Band' said the Patrician, sighing with boredom. 'I thought it was your brother again…'

Alice went to the light, lifting her shoulders. 'It could be him, of course' she answered, sitting in the uncomfortable chair in Vetinari's sight. 'But it's not, as it seems…'

Vetinari sat back, fixing his eyes in her bored face.

'I might become under the impression you came here to say 'Hello'…

The woman rolled her eyes.

'I might also think that you want to say something different… With your special language addiction, perhaps…'

Alice didn't answer. Just looked at him and sighed. She leaned back in her chair and put her hands on the edge of the desk. The Patrician smiled at her gesture. Alice's grin made him lean back too. The dagger in her belt stood untouched.

'I want to ask you something, Vetinari' she said, gazing at him. The man lifted his eyebrows, letting her know he was all in ears. She moved forward, already putting her elbows on the desk, a hand caressing her cheek. Her eyes feasted him from up to down, as far as she could see and finally, she spoke:

'It would be much more like an advise, but I would be glad if you…'

'_Advise_, Miss Band?

Alice stared at his half closed eyes and felt the slight discomfort coming over her mind. She tried to overcome it, but the effect he was putting over was unbreakable even for her. She shivered visibly. Vetinari smiled.

The young woman tried to make herself comfortable in the chair. It was not easy.

'Just…' she swallowed hardly. 'Just leave my brother alone. Will you?'

Vetinari closed his eyes with boredom for a second.

'I never did anything to your brother, as far as I know, miss Band.'

Alice moved slowly, letting him follow the total absence of a weapon in her hands.

'But you would' she answered. 'Don't!'

Vetinari stared at her, then he stood up and came upon the large window again.

'Would you tell me, Miss Band, what you see?'

Alice followed his eyes through the window. She stood slowly, knowing he was tracing her movements and came closely to the other window, already looking through it.

'What I see?' she murmured, staring at the clouds of smoke flying up from the innumerable chimneys, colouring the dark night sky. 'I see… the city, I guess…'

Vetinari sighed.

'Capital!' he whispered thoughtfully. 'The city of Ankh-Morpork.' He lifted his hand, pressing against the glass. 'The vile, the filthy, the depraved, the sponge… the _sweet_ home of millions… _My_ city, Miss Band.' He turned to see her reaction. She was staring at him with both interest and disgust. 'This city, Miss Band, is mine. I know what you might say – no one owns a whole city, especially _this_ one, and you might be right. The city belongs to no one, it doesn't belong to itself even. This city has a soul to buy and sell to anyone who could conclude the bargain, it has the heart to strike its villain energy into everyone who had ever visited it. Have you ever ask yourself why do so many creatures come to Ankh-Morpork? And why so many of them _stay_? I do constantly, Miss Band. And I _do_ know the answer. The question is: Do _you_ know the answer? Why do you think I am in this position, Miss Band? Yes, I admit I am clever enough to take the post of Patrician and I also know that there are at least two people that could do a good job if they were me. But there is a difference, Miss Band. I know how the city works. I know what it wants and I know what it _scares_ of. That is the constant truth I follow in my career and there _is_ a special reason why I am still here…'

He looked at her. Her face was pale.

'You asked me a question and I am determined to answer it.'

Alice blinked nervously.

'Your brother had been hired to do a very specific job… Yes, I know exactly what is the reason he was welcomed into the city, Miss Band. I know what he was supposed to do and I was really disappointed when he didn't attempt to do it so far.'

Vetinari sighed with boredom. Alice swallowed with difficulty.

'While I am still here I would do my best to _stay_, Miss Band' said the Patrician. 'And I _do_ know about any particular plot against me, young lady. Oh, please, don't underestimate me, I am informed about _that_ plot, I know every detail, every word pronounced against me. I am acquainted with all and each one of the people standing in my path and I _do_ know how to work on them. There is no doubt they will pay for their actions. The question is _How_…'

Alice listened carefully. She didn't see the hidden shadow coming outside the window at her right. The window opened, a strange wind flew into the room. Alice moved aside, letting the wind enter along and froze. She had to bend to let the shadow penetrate, but the astonishment hardened her muscles, she wasn't fast enough. The thud resounded with her slow sigh, she slipped dizzy and fell unconsciously on the floor. The thin blood stream found its way on her forehead. The shadow revealed slowly, gazing at the Patrician's bored face.

Jovial untied the tangled window-curtain around his body and lifted Alice's body up from the floor, moving her to the opposite sofa. He adjusted the hard mousy pillow under her head and wiped off the blood drops covering her temple. He caressed her face, staring at its calm indifferent beauty and put his finger on her main vein for some seconds, assuring himself she was deeply asleep. Then he moved up and gazed at the Patrician staring him with no interest.

'Welcome back, Mr. Band' smiled Vetinari. Jovial fixed his eyes in his impassive face.

'Welcome back to you, Milord' he pronounced. 'Shall we begin?'

The Patrician nodded with boredom, already unbuttoning his robe. The studs obeyed in his steady fingers, producing the black shirt, buttoned all the way up, and his black trousers, wrapped up with the black leather belt where he held his daggers.

'I am ready, sir' said Vetinari, putting the well-folded robe on the desk. 'Whenever you say.'

The assassin unbuttoned his jacket, running his fingers through the numerous daggers in his belt.

'May I ask you something, sir?' gulped Jovial, already pulling out one of them. 'Please, don't… hurt her…'

Both men turned to the direction the young woman was laying. Vetinari sighed boredly. Jovial put his hand into one of his pockets, producing a small white piece of paper. Vetinari took it from the place on the desk he shoved it, unfolded it and smiled.

'I expected something better' he said, looking back to the young assassin. Jovial lifted his shoulders.

'I am just the messenger, sir.'

The Patrician smiled slightly. Jovial followed his look, forwarding the letter and threw the dagger with his most trained manner, making his name so famous throughout the Disc. Vetinari didn't respond. Jovial expected him to move, at least, to bow, to dive, to hide, to _jump_… No, there was no reaction. Jovial looked at the dagger flying to his target, time stopped for him, he watched the dagger turning around its orb in its flight, the distance lowered with every part of the second, the threat to the man raised constantly. The seconds passed slowly, the dagger already faced the man, its point endangered his chest, coming closer to the area where the heart was.

Jovial held his breath. The Patrician smiled at him, no attention to the dagger, flying to his sight, sweeping all his life in the corner of the untied cruel universe, screaming in his face.

Lord Havelock Vetinari sighed deeply, lifted his hand and plucked up the dagger's edge, already pressing his shirt's material. Then his hand moved unexpectedly fast, the dagger flew back, the seconds stopped again, featuring another scream of the universe. Jovial stared at the sharp point painting his senses in dark red alertness. He sighed when the dagger touched his chest's skin. He inhaled when the blade penetrated into his body, lacerating the flesh, tearing through his ribs… Already pressing the uneasy beating heart.

Jovial moaned with pain, half closing his eyes. His face coloured in the purple determination of a man already meeting his doom. He slipped down slowly, still gazing at the Patrician of Ankh-Morpork, making his small steps in his direction.

'Don't forget…' said Jovial, choking in his own blood. 'Don't hurt… her…'

Lord Vetinari came to his weak spread body, moved aside from the fast growing puddle of blood and smiled generously.

'I will not hurt your sister, as far as she doesn't make any attempts to follow your example, Mr. Band' he said.

Jovial blinked for some seconds, then his eyes darkened and he exhaled his final breath, coming from his dying chests with the satisfied sound of someone seeking his death for all his life.

'Thank… you…'

The Patrician smiled in his face, reaching to close his already darkening eyes, gazing at his reflection there, where life started disappearing.

---

Lord Downey stepped out from his carriage, facing the men, gathering at the foot of the main Palace's stairs. The coachmen drove fast from their terminals, cleaning the street for every single morporkian, feasting his eyes in whatever happens around the Palace.

'What is going on?' whispered Lord de Burgh, joining the group of noblemen, assembled together as a small herd, waiting for it's doom. Lord Downey lifted his shoulders, the men around him followed his eyes gazing at the young man, coming to welcome them.

Drumknott nodded respectfully, receiving the wroth stares of the Ankh-Morpork royal blooded dissemblers.

'Would you follow me, please, gentlemen?' said the clerk, turning back to the main gate. The noblemen cast a glance to each other and followed the young man.

'I am sorry for the eyesore…' added Vetinari's personal assistant' climbing the internal stairs. 'It seems something not quite pleasing happened last night in the Oblong Office' he said, hiding the smile on his face. 'Gladly, no damage. It seems the young man's attempts were rather abortive…' Drumknott sighed desperately. 'Poor man…'

Lord Downey shivered. He knew what he was talking about. Early in the morning he had meet the news and… Alice.

The noblemen's blood froze. They still followed the clerk's lead up, but their minds were penetrating in other universe. Their own universe, yelling in their ears, crushing their blood streams into their managed brains.

Lord Havelock Vetinari was sitting in his usual chair. The noblemen nodded nervously, gathering together with the total determination that there will be no mercy for them. Not this morning… The slim man at the far end of the study lifted up, already coming closer.

'I am truly sorry for welcoming you in this position' he said, buttoning the open edges of his robes, producing the multitude blade edges stuck in his belt. 'There was… Oh, be careful there, gentlemen. Unfortunately we had no time to remove the blood… Drumknott…'

The clerk nodded. 'Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. I'll take care of it immediately…'

The Patrician of Ankh-Morpork sighed with boredom. 'Please, do have a seat, gentlemen. It will not take long, I assure you.'

The noblemen leaped across the dark stain on the carpet and sat on their usual places around the dark conference table. The Patrician joined them in his head chair.

'I am concerned, gentlemen' he spoke, sighing. 'There are some moments I should have to share with you. Some moments I believe are _quite_ unpleasant for us all.'

The noblemen changed glances.

'I have received very unwelcome news according our last conversation, launched some weeks ago' said Vetinari putting his palms together. 'It seems there is no progress in the item we had been discussing lately, which puts me into the reflection that my advises had not been taken under consideration…'

He sighed deeply, leaned back in his chair and travelled his cold stare through each one of the white-coloured faces around the table.

'Since this moment on the city taxes would be _levied_ each trimester.'

He glanced at them with no attempts to share any regret. The noblemen followed his stare and lowered their eyes.

'I gave you a chance to stop this practice, gentlemen' he half closed his eyes. 'I don't feel satisfied. It seems my advises were underestimated, my efforts to satisfy the city's requirements were suppressed… My attempts to follow your needs had come to their end.'

He stared at them again. They didn't even move, looking at any other, but his direction.

'This doesn't bring me a mental comfort of mind, gentlemen, do believe in this, I could not take different decision. I have to think about the city's well being. And this is what it _has_ to be done! As I already said once, the taxed have to be levied, gentlemen. This or other mode – no matter. The city needs fresh money and it _will_ receive it.'

He moved his eyes around again, welcoming the total absence of feeling in their faces.

'The Tax Department of the Watch will be launched as soon as possible. Commander Vimes was already informed, I still expect his proposal for a promotion, and I do believe the person would be satisfactorily enough for the job. Later today I have a meeting with the Tax committee, when the tax collection procedure will be developed and made an inventory to your Guilds. As I said once, this _has_ to be done.'

Lord Vetinari looked at them again and leaned back in his chair, letting them know the audience was over.

'Please don't let me detain you, gentlemen. Have a nice day.'

The men gazed him for some more time, then they lifted up slowly, one after each other, eagerly reaching to the door.

'Ah… one final thing, gentlemen…'

The Patrician of Ankh-Morpork opened a file, obviously losing any interest in the group reaching to exit his study

'Please, do me the favour to gather in other place, different than my parent's home. It is not the best place, considering the lack of neatness there…'

He feasted his eyes in their blank faces, hiding the smile tickling his mad self-control.

'If not, then tell me when the next meeting would be and I would take care of the dusting and cleaning of the main hall.'

There was no sound coming from them, different than the shameful steps going down the stairs with the fastest pace they could manage.

Lord Vetinari smiled slowly and looked at Drumknott's feasting eyes. The clerk nodded respectfully and exited, closing the door behind him.

The Patrician lifted up from his chair, walked slowly to the desk, lifting a file, then stood some time by the window and finally, walked slowly to the wall behind his seat. The panel opened, he slipped inside and faced the young man, hiding into the darkness of his secret study. The Igor, bustling around him, nodded silently and exited from the dark room. Vetinari followed the door closing, tugged a stool and sat at the man's front.

The young assassin sighed painfully, chocking with the pang in his chest.

'Good morning, Mr. Band' Vetinari said. 'Do you know what an Angel is?'

**THE END**

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_So, this is it. I hope you have enjoyed reading this story. If not, then at least I tried... If you have anything to share, feel free. I do accept criticism and I would be glad answering all your questions according this story. _

_Your humble fellow-writer (yeah, right), _

_Big Cat_


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